A Country Scandal: a sexy, scandalous page-turner

by Sasha Morgan

  The signal was given, and they were off. Gaelic Star missed the break at the start, leaving him trailing the field. Dylan urged the horse on to cover the ground, but soon found himself stuck behind a wall of horses. It was the worst possible start. Proceeding was difficult. Gaps opened ahead and closed too swiftly for him to make a move. Even so, Gaelic Star was travelling well. He was sharp and powerful and had the ability to win. Positioning him to take advantage of this was proving difficult for Dylan, though. The runners were bunched together round the bend and Dylan was still trapped in the middle. In front a group of three horses blocked his progress. He waited, hoping for a gap to appear. Eventually there was room to get out and go round them. He steered Gaelic Star to the left, giving him a chance to stretch out. The horse relished the challenge, notching up a gear despite his anxiety. He pulled away from the group of horses and set off in pursuit of the two runners ahead. The nearest was three lengths away entering the last furlong and Gaelic Star caught up with him comfortably. Now he was just a length down on the horse in first place, Rainbow’s End, and poised to swoop past him. But Dylan could hear his horse gasping for breath, so he lay off his whip, willing Gaelic Star to push just a little further. The horse tried his best, but so did Rainbow’s End. The two horses raced neck and neck over the finishing line, making it impossible to ascertain the winner.

  ‘A bloody photo finish!’ cursed Sean Fox, his face contorted with fury.

  Dylan rode Gaelic Star slowly back down the track, waiting for the winner to be announced. A television commentator hastily approached.

  ‘Another win, Dylan?’ Dylan didn’t answer, he was still in his zone, waiting for the result. In the distance he could see Sean Fox, pacing up and down like a caged tiger. His body language spoke volumes. Again, Dylan felt his jaw tighten. Then it came.

  ‘The result of the photograph finish. First, number five, Gaelic Star. Second, number seven, Rainbow’s End. Third, number two, Midnight Express.’ The crowd went wild, yet Dylan felt cold.

  Entering the winner’s enclosure to deafening applause, Dylan jumped off his horse. The TV presenter tried once more for a response from him.

  ‘Congratulations, Dylan, a close shave!’ He ignored her. Sean Fox came bounding over.

  ‘Only just, but a win’s a win.’ Is that all he could say? The horse was young, inexperienced and had given his all to win. Another jockey would have thrashed him to get past the winning post.

  ‘You’re a bastard, Fox. That’s the last time I ride for you.’ Sean Fox’s eyes bulged, his face flushed in anger. Dylan coolly walked away. Every television camera had recorded the post-race drama, and the place was buzzing.

  Up in the stands Seamus gave a sly smile: about time someone told him. Good for Dylan. Tatum and Megan had jumped for joy when Gaelic Star had been announced the winner. Tobias, however, had been studying Dylan. Any doubts he may have had about him backing out of the new training yard were quashed. It was blatantly obvious to him that Dylan’s heart was no longer in the thrill of the race. Hearing his comments to Sean Fox further confirmed that. He was relieved. The training yard was going to be a real money-spinner. That and the much-needed grant English Heritage would be supplying to assist in opening Treweham Hall would meet the financial demands. If all went to plan, Tobias could just about turn it around, pulling the estate accounts out of the red.

  ‘More champagne!’ cheered Tatum.

  ‘I’ll second that,’ replied Tobias, filling everyone’s glass.

  Chapter 39

  At the end of the day, Tobias’ driver drove them to the country inn. It was early evening when they arrived. The aroma of honeysuckle hovered in the air as they walked hand in hand up the stone steps. The Hollies was a sixteenth-century former coach house, steeped in history. Tobias gave his name at reception simply as Cavendish-Blake. The receptionist’s eyebrows rose. ‘Ah, Lord Cavendish-Blake, please follow me. I will show you to your room.’

  ‘Could you arrange for the luggage to be brought up, please? My driver is waiting outside.’

  ‘Certainly, sir.’

  Megan noticed the way people responded to Tobias, yet he never lorded his position over them. Even now he hadn’t given his title. They were taken up a grand staircase, then along an oak-panelled corridor to the end room. Megan suspected it was the best room in the house. She wasn’t wrong. Megan took in the elaborately carved four-poster bed, draped with gold velvet. There was an antique dressing table and wardrobe, shelves packed with old, leather-bound books, and a huge Persian rug covered the floorboards. Matching gold velvet curtains hung with tassels framed the large sash window. The en suite was floor-to-ceiling oyster marble with a slipper bath and a ribcage shower.

  ‘You like?’ Tobias asked.

  ‘I do. It’s wonderful.’

  ‘I’m glad you like it. I’ve booked dinner in the restaurant for seven thirty.’

  ‘Right, I’d better get ready.’ He looked into her eyes. Surely he wasn’t going to suggest they shower together, was he? She returned his gaze, the effect of the champagne giving her the courage to do so. A knock at the door interrupted them.

  ‘That’ll be the cases.’ Tobias answered the door, leaving Megan to slip quietly into the bathroom and lock the door. She undressed and let the fine spray of the shower relax her. Nerves had started to jitter. She wondered if he felt the same.

  He’d heard her lock the bathroom door and grinned wickedly to himself. What did she think he’d do? Barge in and ravish her? Hmm, the very thought had made him semi-hard. How he’d wait for tonight he didn’t know. The anticipation was killing him. Images of her exquisite body lying on the picnic rug in Quercus Woods had taunted him every night as he longed to touch and taste her again. It was slowly driving him insane. He unpacked his dinner suit and left Megan’s case on the bed. Soon she entered the room wearing a bath robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. ‘Right, I’ll leave you to get ready while I bathe.’ Tobias shut the bathroom door behind him, but didn’t bother to lock it. On the off chance Megan wanted to come in and ravish him in the bath, she was most welcome.

  Once dressed, Megan looked every inch the elegant lady in her long, slim, fitted black gown. It was sleeveless with a rolled neckline. She had worn her gran’s necklace, a single diamond on a silver chain. Her hair was fresh and shiny from the shower and dried smoothly into a sleek bob. She squirted herself with a floral perfume, reminding her of Gran’s Parma violets, and she felt a sudden rush of love. After a while Tobias came into the room, wearing only a towel round his hips. ‘Forgot this,’ he grinned, picking up his dinner suit and strolled back into the bathroom. Megan gulped. What a sight for sore eyes. His body was sensational, with his broad shoulders, muscular, dark chest, slim hips and strong legs. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. After tonight there was no turning back.

  They made a striking couple walking into the restaurant. Heads turned as they were shown to their table by the window overlooking the grounds. Megan felt a little self-conscious and was glad they were positioned slightly out of the way from the other diners. She wondered if Tobias had booked this particular table for that reason, which meant he must have stayed here before. Instantly prompting the next question, with whom? Insecurity crept into her psyche like an old enemy, taunting her. Determined not to let it ruin her evening she concentrated on the menu. Despite her nerves, she was quite hungry. Once they’d both ordered a starter and main course, Tobias was given the wine list. His eyes flicked over the extensive names from countries far and wide, which meant absolutely nothing to her, but obviously a great deal to him.

  ‘We’ll have the Conterno Cicala 2012, please.’

  ‘Excellent choice, sir,’ replied the waiter.

  After the waiter had left, Megan said quietly, ‘Good job you know your wines. I wouldn’t have had a clue.’

  ‘Yes you would. I’ve ordered the wine I brought when you made dinner the first time.’

  Megan smiled at the memory. It seemed a while ago now, probably b
ecause a lot had happened since then. Tobias must have been thinking something similar as he enquired about her visit to Ted.

  ‘It went really well, thanks. I asked him to talk to Mum.’ Tobias was listening as he poured the wine, which had been quickly brought to the table.

  ‘I take it your mum still has no idea?’

  Megan shook her head. ‘No, I’m convinced she doesn’t know Ted’s her real dad.’

  ‘But you think she should know?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ she replied firmly.

  Tobias loved the way she knew her own mind and agreed with her, although privately he was dubious as to the outcome.

  ‘If you need me to help in anyway, Megan, I’m here.’ His hand covered hers over the table, and it felt warm and reassuring. Megan was touched. He had only ever shown kindness and compassion, a total contrast to what she had read about him on the internet.

  Curiosity had got the better of her and she hadn’t been able to resist reading the various articles that had been written about him. The most recent one had reported his antics on his thirtieth birthday brawl. However shocking the tabloids portrayed ‘the Heir and the Fox’ she still couldn’t help chuckling.

  Tobias once again caught her grinning to herself. ‘Now what’s going on in that mind of yours, Megan Taylor?’

  ‘Just what I’ve been reading about your sordid past,’ she teased.

  ‘Please don’t take it as gospel.’ Hell, the last thing he needed at this crucial stage was his past catching up on him.

  ‘I’m not sure I’d want my past archived in the newspapers for all and sundry to pore over.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ he ribbed, arching his eyebrow. His hand still held hers, his thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. She gave him a playful smile, which he found incredibly sexy.

  ‘Hmm, never tumbled out of a nightclub without my trousers, though,’ she mused.

  ‘It was Fox’s doing,’ he retorted, half laughing, ‘I was led astray.’

  ‘You both had beautiful women on each arm,’ she chided, looking directly at him. He lowered his gaze. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then she asked the question, unable to avoid, she had to know. ‘Tobias, you seem to know your way round here – have you stayed before?’

  ‘Yes.’ Now he was looking directly at her. She swallowed, they both knew what was coming next.

  ‘Who with?’

  ‘A lady whom I’ve known a very long time and grown extremely fond of, despite her waywardness.’ Megan felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Her jaw dropped. She pulled her hand away sharply. Tobias grabbed it back. ‘Aunt Celia.’

  Relief flooded her. ‘Seriously, you brought Celia here?’

  ‘Yes,’ he laughed, ‘I took her to Royal Ascot last year for her eightieth birthday and we stayed here, too. Separate rooms, obviously.’ His lips twitched. He’d loved her reaction, her jealousy giving his confidence a boost.

  ‘You enjoy teasing me, don’t you?’ She looked narrowly at him.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ he replied, his eyes dancing with devilment. She couldn’t help but laugh; he was incorrigible.

  After finishing their meal and the bottle of wine they made their way up the grand staircase. Megan had expected to feel those butterfly nerves fluttering away in the pit of her stomach, but she didn’t. Instead she was overcome with a sense of wellbeing, having thoroughly enjoyed being in Tobias’ company all day. He made her feel special. As they entered the room he took her in his arms and kissed her, gently at first, then as her hands ran through his hair, the pressure of his lips intensified, plunging further. Megan’s hands then slipped under his jacket and pulled him further into her, and she could feel how hard he was already.

  ‘Megan,’ he whispered huskily, pulling himself away.

  His eyes were dark with passion as he watched her undress and climb into the huge bed. Tobias stripped, leaving his body completely bare. Red-hot desire burnt through her. He was an Adonis. His eyes locked with hers, as he rolled back the covers to reveal her body. He slowly devoured every detail: the round, firm breasts dusted with freckles, curved hips, flat stomach and shapely, long legs. He homed in on the silk triangle of dark hair, inviting him. He dipped his head to kiss both breasts, running his tongue over her hard nipples, then lowered his lips to caress her stomach, then finally his tongue moved down over the intimate parting of her, making Megan cry out in pleasure. He gently probed, relishing the taste of her. Megan grabbed his shoulders.

  ‘Tobias, please,’ she pleaded. He ran his face up her body and found her lips. Megan stroked his muscular back, loving the contours of his warm skin. He claimed her mouth again, whilst gently parting her thighs.

  ‘Tell me you want me,’ he whispered darkly.

  ‘You know I do,’ she begged, wrapping her arms round him.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Tobias, I want you.’ This sent him into overdrive. With a groan he placed himself between her soft thighs and edged into her, making her gasp. Slowly he pushed further until he was fully inside her. She clutched his buttocks, then he started to move steadily, deeper and deeper sending her into ecstasy. Tobias pressed harder. He’d waited a long time for this and couldn’t control himself any longer. Megan arched her back, he could feel her breasts against his chest. With a guttural cry his body juddered and he erupted like a volcano, only just managing to withdraw. Megan cried out in pleasure, clinging to him. They both lay still for a moment, savouring what had happened. Tobias rolled onto his back, while Megan snuggled into his chest. ‘That was amazing,’ she murmured.

  ‘I know,’ he gruffly replied, kissing her forehead. ‘Megan?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Promise you won’t read anymore bloody articles about me?’

  She laughed. ‘I promise.’ He nudged her to face him. He looked serious.

  ‘I don’t want anything to come between us, do you understand?’

  She was touched. ‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed, and gently kissed his lips.

  He cursed himself for not using protection, but he’d truly got lost in the moment. What she could do to him was frightening. He was totally bewitched.

  Chapter 40

  For once Flora was relaxing. She had taken the day off work to see her mum and dad off on their big adventure. The campervan looked full to busting, with a cheery dad at the wheel and an excited mum clutching a map.

  ‘You sure you’ll be all right, Flora?’ Her mum was starting to fuss again.

  ‘Yes! Now stop worrying and have a blast,’ reassured Flora, who by now had had enough of her mum’s drama and just wanted them to get going. She was secretly looking forward to having the place to herself, with her brother packed off to South America, too. Her dad beeped his horn twice.

  ‘Righty ho! Off we go!’

  Flora leant forward and gave him a kiss. ‘Bye, have a wonderful time!’

  She waved them off until the campervan was out of sight, then went back into the quiet house, made a coffee and sat in front of the TV, something she hadn’t done for ages, she realised. Bliss, perfect bliss. Normally she would be up with the lark, grabbing a quick breakfast before making her way to Treweham Hall stables. There she would spend the day mucking out the stables, exercising, feeding and tending to all the horses’ needs. It was strenuous work, which left her exhausted and only fit for a long, hot bath and supper by the time she returned home.

  It would be good to have a bit more free time, and she considered Dylan’s proposal once again. If she was an assistant trainer she would be able to have more control over her time, not be the constant lackey. Flora loved horses, and would always want to work closely with them, but she rather liked the idea of having a bit more say in the running of a yard. One thing that she would always admire in Dylan was his care of horses. She had watched him riding at Royal Ascot and admired the way he had handled his horse, refusing to whip it to death, like some would. Dylan always put the welfare of his horse first, above all else, and she respected him for that.


  She flicked on the TV. Dylan’s body, wrapped in a small blue towel stared back at her, jolting her senses. Her eyes widened as she watched him walk into a bedroom with a confident swagger, splash aftershave on his cheeks and say, ‘Never be pipped at the post.’ Flora’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. Then Dylan’s blue eyes bored into her. ‘I always win, wearing Racer.’ He gave her that winning wink, before she collapsed on the sofa in hysterics.

  *

  Seamus had seen the advert, too. Straight away he had got on the phone to Tobias, spluttering with laughter. Dylan knew to expect the text messages left on his phone. He took them with good humour. The one message he craved, though, wasn’t forthcoming. He still hadn’t had an answer from Flora. It had been a few days now since he’d seen her, and his application for a licence to run a training yard had been successful. The panel deciding Dylan’s submission had been favourable. His reputation for his good care of horses had outshone any unsavoury gossip, plus the plans for the new training yard were thorough and detailed, leaving no room for doubt that the whole project would be run professionally and successfully. He suspected the Treweham Hall name had packed some punch and, if the whispers were true, his actions towards Sean Fox hadn’t done him any harm. Sean Fox had made one or two enemies in the racing world and seeing a jockey stand up to him had caused many a satisfied smirk. All Dylan needed now was Flora to agree to be his assistant trainer. He didn’t want to pressure her, but then again he needed an answer. His mobile bleeped and he rolled his eyes: another message about the advert. But it was Flora’s name that flashed before him. He took a deep breath.